The temperature has been steadily climbing all week in Berlin, and I’d never thought I’d be ready for the rain that greeted us when we arrived, but here we are. In between peeling myself of seats and hiding from the sun, I have managed to get make some more progress with my research. We were given a lot of time this week to make headway on our projects independently. In my case, that meant attending the film studies class of Martin Klepper, a Humboldt professor in American Studies. Some very surprising connection came out of that class: a woman called Cilena heard about my project and invited me to attend Dr. Isensee’s digital media class, and a man named Michael offered Jasmine, Natalie, and me some interesting perspectives on our topics over dinner. Spending time with him was an amazing experience, and he was genuinely interested in helping out. Michael used to live around the Merringdam area as a student, and he had some interesting perspectives to share on the gentrification of the neighbourhood, which he says happened in the eight years he was a resident. We talked about movies, his view of Americans, and our perceptions of Berlin. It was interesting to have these impressions validated or questioned by someone equally interested in examining his own experiences. He also showed us some incredibly cheap-but-good Italian food, fantastic ice cream, and the most beautiful park in Kreuzberg. All in all, I feel like I’m in an awkward limbo stage where I have made the connections that I want to, I’m just waiting to hear back from said contacts. It’s both a hopeful and nerve-wracking place to be. In our actual class time, we heard a lecture on “Trans-Atlantic Education” from Dr. Isensee, learned about the Young Islam Conference, and listened to Dr. Georgi’s work on diversity in education. The reading for the week that kind of tied these topics together was “Can Matthew Crawford Deliver us from Distraction,” an article by Michael Roth published in The Chronicle of Higher Education. Drawing on one of the article’s themes, neoliberalism, and connecting it to narratives of refugees and migrants that we have been exposed to. In our discussion, Yi Shi and I talked extensively about responsibility and cause and effect. Going off Rhissa’s talk, we thought about how many European countries laid claim to many of the resources found in Africa, but refuse to harbor the refugees and migrants that are created by these old colonial attitudes. It seems as though colonial responsibility doesn’t extend to the recovery of human beings. Some of the stuff Rhissa said came back to me after this discussion, since he has lived the situation that Yi Shi and I only talked about in hypotheticals. His critical views on the Western narrative of poverty-stricken and developmentally delayed African nations stuck with me in particular, especially his “France is powered by Africa” comment. I know that I was never taught to think critically about responsibility in a globalization context, but after listening to Andre and Rhissa, I am struck with the discrepancies of neoliberalism. We can value the labour and resources that another country can provide, but we can’t value their people and differences. I’m excited to explore more about this immigrant narrative as it is portrayed through film as I continue to work on my research project.

Fresh out of our spring seminar and after my initial research, I was aware of the distinction between those that are considered “truly German” and people separated from this identity by migrant backgrounds, for example. It was Yue’s further exploration this concept in her piece “On Not Looking German”, that truly drove home the many divisions in identifying oneself as German. The distinctions in identity created by the jus sanguinis politics of citizenship were only something I fully conceptualized once I had had time to observe and engage with the people of Berlin. It was most significant once we visited Heinrich von Stephan Community School. To see the level of engagement between students of visible ethnic differences with both their classmates and the larger culture of the city made conceptualizing the distinctions inherent in their belonging to German society, for example, migrant backgrounds or “foreign inlanders,” especially difficult. Similarly, walking around Kreuzberg, a multiethnic hub of cultural diversity, and hearing nothing but German spoken and watching people so in tune with the unspoken rules of German citizenship, applying the distinctions of blood was hard.

Dr. Markus Heide’s lecture on immigrants in film was of great interest to me, given my research topic. In particular, his descriptions of the evolution of depictions of immigrants from the well-meaning but tame to the realistic and gritty. What was most intriguing to me was the movement away from immigration-centered narratives into more lighthearted depictions of cultural balance and questions of identity in more recent times. To me, this narrative takes on a “we’re just like you, only ___” tone, similar to the contemporary American comedies Blackish and Fresh Off the Boat. Both shows aim to show the realities of life as a minority in a larger society. This movement towards recognizing differences in background, but not letting them prevent identification with a larger group, is indicative to me of a move towards multicultural understanding. I realize that I am speaking as an American, from a society that largely considers itself multicultural. At the very least, there is the realization that the “American” identity is a composite conception. I’ve had very little interaction with Germans in the way of discussing how the identify themselves. My conversation partner at the school, Emma, described her life and experiences as those of a typical German student, and only told me that her parents were from Sierra Leone when asked. In contrast, the head of the international student mixer for Humboldt University clarified right of the bat that her parents were Vietnamese in order to explain how her appearance could coexist with her German language and cultural fluency. During our visit to the Youth Museum, Natalie and I learned that when some students learn of rapper Jonni’s Jewish roots, they immediately question their enthusiasm for his music. In this way, I am seeing German youth identify themselves with and perpetuate the distinctions of jus sanguinis policies and ethnic identity in Germany.

The path to my first night in Berlin entails a drive up to Vancouver, a flight to London, a flight to Berlin, a bus from the airport, and, finally, the U Bahn to Die Fabrik Hostel in Kreuzberg. The most significant experience of this jet-lagged Monday-into-Tuesday blur was the currywurst that we had at Curry 7, just down the street from the hostel. Between my frantic whispered pleas to Natalie to help me translate the menu and my stumbling attempt at German, the sense of being helpless in a foreign country first dawned on me. Prior to arriving in Berlin, I hadn’t really anticipated the “out of place” feeling to be so strong; I felt like as a diverse group of students, we’d blend in to the hip, heterogeneous Kreuzberg scene with little difficulty. Maybe this is more of a personal feeling, but since that first night I’ve been on edge with every public interaction I have. From boarding the U-Bahn to ordering in a café, I have a fear of not doing it the “right way.” The longer I spend in Berlin, the more the unspoken social rules of the city make themselves known, often at the expense of my embarrassment. For example, leaving your bottles on the table after you finish drinking at some bars, sitting down as soon as a seat opens up on the train, and perhaps most importantly, staying out of the bike lane. I don’t think I’m ever going to completely shake the fear of doing something wrong, and immediately be identified as a tourist, but as time goes on I’m getting better at pretending I know what I’m doing.

Aside from the cultural norms that continue to pop up in new ways and places, there’s definitely a “look” that distinguishes a native of Berlin. Lots of darks and neutrals, leather jackets, and fashionable-yet-functional shoes all go into a perfect composition of urban identity. It may just be the kooky Kreuzberg neighbourhod, where we are staying, but tattoos and piercings are all over the place in a way that I’ve never seen in the United States, unless it’s a very localized event. Over the last few days I’ve seen these aesthetic differences through the haze of cigarette smoke that lingers around the U+S Bahn stations and the outdoor patios of restaurants. There’s an attitude that I’ve been picking up as our stay lengthens: there’s no passive-aggressive behaviour correcting in Berlin—if you are doing something wrong, someone will tell you. There are no public apologies for a bump while walking down the street. There’s an unspoken understanding that it’s never a personal attack but some small way of helping you out. It’s my own belief that the blunt attitude makes for more genuine interactions between people. Speaking of these interactions, I’ve been greatly appreciated the forgiving nature of the waiters, shop owners, and other Berliners when I gaze back at them, wide eyed after hearing a stream of German I don’t understand. From there follows either a pantomimed exchange, or more commonly, they speak to me in English. Recently, I was able to have a conversation with Emma, a tenth grader at the alternative school we visited. We were able to discuss everything from our differing school systems and our plans for the future, to the Kardashians and Vine superstars. Emma’s English proficiency and cultural awareness made me think about how America-centric our schooling really is. This closed of nature of our K-12 education might be contributing factor to the “stranded” feeling that I have experienced as an American(ish) abroad. I think the cross-cultural understandings necessary for international travel should make their way into the curriculum in the United States. Then maybe we can finally shake the “clueless and loud” stereotype. In my case, it’s been more like “absolutely silent and in the way,” but the statement stands true. I’m hoping that over the next few days, I can find my footing and get out there to interact with confidence for my interviews and other interactions.

Here is the preliminary work up of my final research proposal. Hannah, Kendra, and Roujia have posted their own versions of our group's research to their own blogs, so please refer to their sites for the full scope of the project.

This week's reading dealt with the rise of art-based activism, particularly street art that represents the struggle of a minority group. The message of street art, oftentimes in itself a subversive act against authority, is compounded when it deals with complex topics like police brutality, racial discrimination, and gentrification. These topics overwhelming affect minority groups, who are often lacking the support system to change these circumstances. In addition to being without a support system, the platform for these issues to made public, usually media coverage, is hard to come by. Thus, public spaces become a modern-day, silent forum of sorts, where the strife of the oppressed group is expressed in art. The clandestine nature of street art allows it to persist and grow as more people add their own "opinions" to the mix, creating a collaborative piece about a shared struggle. The unity found in the creation of street art activism is incredible. The public nature of the work spreads the message in an efficient and arresting manner.

How do immigrant perspectives emerge in German cinema? What differences can be seen between German-produced media in comparison to that produced by the demographic in question? How is the concept of "othering" furthered or diminished through these films?

Recently, there's been more and more attention given to representation of minority groups in various kinds of media. From gender diversity, to LGBTQ+ visibility, and racial diversity. My own interest in this topic, as a person who lives in multiple minority intersections, comes from my own life experience. However, this passion became more academic in nature after I took Clare Bright's class "Comparative Ideologies of Human Rights Movements," which examined the feminist, queer, and civil rights movements. I thought again that I could bring this interest to our study abroad research by focusing on representation of immigrants in German film. As part of this study, I would delve into the differences in representations of immigrants in films produced by the larger German film industry compared to those that come out of the immigrant community. Do the potential differences or similarities between these different origins further the concept of "othering," and furthering the separation between immigrants and naturalized Germans? As a subset of these questions, it would be amazing if I could somehow look into audience reception of the films of these different origins. perhaps through box office figures, reviews, and even interviews with the audience members themselves.

For some preliminary sources, I have been looking at the Goethe-Institut, which has a wonderful database of "Multiculturalism in German Cinema" in their subset of studies on Migration and Integration. In addition to showcasing the works of immigrant directors, the Goethe-Institut provides the names of several journalists that I hope to contact for some first-person interviews. There is also a hub of research into European and German cinema accessible through the European Cultural Foundation, online at ECFlabs.org. I also view this as a potential resource for first-person interviews.

This week we were tasked with two tasks of observation: an interview and a reflective activity, both of which were intended to prepare us for data collection while studying abroad. For the interview portion, myself and Natalie Hillerson strolled through the Quad on a sunny Saturday afternoon and talked to a girl lying in the grass and reading a book. It was a great way to ease into an interviewing process--we used the buddy system, and she was sitting alone and easily approachable. We prompted her with a question: if you were abroad in Germany, and a local asked you about minority issues in the United States, what would you speak about? She talked about the historical and institutional roots of racism in our country, from slavery to legal codes. The most pressing issue, she felt, immigration policy. When asked about the path forward, or how we, as students, could affect change, she stressed education and investment in communities. What was most important is that an unburdened dialogue be opened up, so that these issues may be discussed clearly. She was very well-spoken for being put on the spot like that, and answered our follow up questions clearly and thoroughly. I was surprised at the ease of the interview process once the ball got rolling. Either we got lucky, or I'm just expecting the worst. For my own observation, I sat on the balcony outside my work lab in the Health Sciences Building. It was a sunny afternoon, although I felt a chill in the air while sitting in the shade. I was facing Pacific Street, looking over the construction of some out buildings in front of Magnusson. I heard the bark of orders from the worksite, the clanking of power tools, and the rumble of construction machinery, both from in front of me and down the street, where Foege is also undergoing a revamp. The chattering of students crossing the overpass to the biology labs in Hitchcock and the wheezing of old metro busses stopping in front of Health Sciences broke up the sounds of work. The air smelled like gasoline, and bits of poplar fluff were blowing through the wind. My peaceful reflection on the balcony was interrupted by an enterprising spider trying to make a home on my coworkers bike.As for the pieces on gentrification this week, I feel as though this is a narrative that we have heard many times before. From the news to TV shows, the topic of "moneyed takeover" is often broached. In my own experience, I have already lived in heavily gentrified areas for most of my life and thus have not seen the forces really in action. However, for the last 10 years, I have lived in Shoreline, WA, which is bisected by Route 99, or Aurora Avenue. In the last few years, a major clean up effort has been underway, as more high rises pop up along the Ave while motels get torn down. It has seen the opening of both a Whole Foods and a PCC in areas that were previously the domain of Jack-in-the-Box alone. Aurora and it's businesses are attempting to cater to a different set of people entirely, and in doing so, harms it's current occupants. While I'm sure Route 99 won't lose it's reputation, I think that In the years to come, it will be a very different experience and garner a very different reaction to live by Aurora Avenue.

When I first applied to study in Berlin, I mentioned that one of my main reasons behind choosing this program was my own experience as an immigrant and how that has impacted how I identify myself in different settings. From this personal standpoint, and further motivated by the knowledge gained through our readings, I would like to do research surrounding the immigrant children in the education system. It would be fascinating to see whether being the minority in a school setting pushes children towards assimilation or creates the need for them to identify differently based on the setting. I suppose this topic falls under Identity and Environment, but with the focus on the scholastic setting, there is also an element of education to be considered. That being said, I would like to focus on the immigrant experience rather than the policy that potentially results in these experiences.

There are a few readings that particularly drew me on to this track, most notably Norton's vignettes of the immigrant experience. For example, most directly related to Identity and Environment is Martina, who adopts a maternal sort of identity at work to gain some sort of authority with other employees. More related to education is the contextual understanding of the short story discussed in the South African classroom. How would the children of immigrants relate to and interpret their curriculum? Are schools unwittingly policing the identities of these kids and forcing assimilation? These are questions I'd like to address through my research as well.

This weeks reading mentioned the "look" involved in national identity. Minority groups are constantly asked to validate and question their national identities because they don't appear similar to the rest of the population. I think in the United States we are spoiled with a considerable heterogenous society; that doesn't stop people from asking "where are you really from?" The idea that a different appearance precludes membership to a national identity is something I think would particularly affect the children of immigrants, 2nd or 3rd generation kids. In that demographic, there is a distinct separation between cultural background and the environment, and it would be interesting to see how that either fractures an identity, or forces an individual into difficult choices.

Norton's examination of the underpinnings of identity formation in immigrants focus heavily on language and the power it has. In her discussion of several vignettes, she notes how the mastery of language, the cultural interpretation of the words, and the connection one makes with the story being told all influence the “investment” of the learner. The aforementioned factors also contribute heavily to the formation of identity as a second language learner; they are opportunities for the learner to relate to the larger culture and in turn see how the larger culture respects their background. In the case of Martina, the Czech immigrant, her English proficiency placed her in an inferior position at work when she related to her coworkers as simply another employee. However, when she reframed her relationship with these people, her workplace identity, to that of “mother,” she was able to claim more power in that social situation. This scenario led me to reflect on not only experiences of first generation immigrants, whose abilities are constantly doubted because of the language barrier, but also that of their children. Having seen their parents struggle because of the language barrier and resulting cultural differences, how would these kids chose to relate to their parents’ culture? Would they preferentially engage with their national identity over their cultural identity? A second vignette dealt with power dynamics in the classroom that dealt with cultural knowledge. The words, the language, to be interpreted in this situation dealt with the shooting of some thieving monkeys. This scenario, interpreted by its audience of apartheid era scholars, is fraught with implications of racial tensions. The different cultural understandings of the text were only brought to light in the classroom setting when the instructor took on a learning role by respecting her students’ differing cultural knowledge. This interplay of language and identity results in different interpretations of the text. Thus, the formation of a new identity as an immigrant is unique to that individual. Their interpretations of their new environment will vary in accordance with their cultural background. The third vignette dealt with the concept of “investment” in terms of assimilating into a new culture, in this case, through language. Often unintentionally, immigrants are alienated from their new culture by the very people who are trying to help them engage with it. What particularly struck me was the ways that Mai felt that her ESL class had failed her, such as structuring lessons on their past experiences rather than the language that is needed to adapt. If possible, I think this would be a fascinating area of education to research while abroad, dealing with the question “can a national identity be taught?”